


all the flaws i've stumbled on

by LightningRidgeBlackOpal



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Ryan's hair - Freeform, gift fic!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 21:49:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18432776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningRidgeBlackOpal/pseuds/LightningRidgeBlackOpal
Summary: “See something you like?” she teases. He follows her eyeline back over towards his desk. Towards Ryan. He tries to play it off and shrugs, but when he tries to say something snarky all he can manage is, “I don’t-” before he cuts off abruptly.





	all the flaws i've stumbled on

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abovetheruins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/gifts).



> Happy birthday Ruins!

Shane has never considered himself particularly romantic or sappy or anything like that. He can be sweet, sure. When he likes someone he goes out of his way to make sure they know; he can be kind and caring and giving and all of that. But sugary sweet, saccharine, tooth-rotting romantic? Definitely not him. Not his style. When he asked Sara out he did it by knocking on her door and saying, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for three months now. Can I kiss you?” When she broke up with him he spent a week being more or less torn up about it, listening to The Smiths and sulking around his apartment when he wasn’t at work.

So he’s not really a romantic at heart; he doesn’t really love cutesy things (aside from Obi) and he doesn’t really love romcoms or movies with romance as a focal point, and he doesn’t really love the idea of love in general. It all strikes him as too big, too serious, too huge of a thing.

Regardless, he walks into the office on Monday and stops dead in his tracks. He feels heat flooding his cheeks. He feels his heart skip and then rush to catch up; butterflies dancing in his stomach; his palms sweating. He just stands there staring until an elbow catches his side and he looks over at Sara. Her brows are angled in a question but her smile tells him she knows exactly what’s going on. “See something you like?” she teases. He follows her eyeline back over towards his desk. Towards Ryan. He tries to play it off and shrugs, but when he tries to say something snarky all he can manage is, “I don’t-” before he cuts off abruptly.

She laughs all the way back to her desk, and Shane keeps his eyes on the ground while he walks to his.

His goal is to keep his eyes on the screen, but they’re pulled over to the right over and over like Ryan is suddenly magnetic North. Like his eyes are a compass swinging back and forth to aim him home. “What’s up?” Ryan asks him suddenly and he turns over, regrets it immediately.

“Oh… nothing much,” Shane says. It sounds awkward to his ears and Ryan’s expression tells him that the feeling is mutual. “Just, work…” he continues. Ryan just nods, and Shane has to snap his attention back to his screen. It’s just…

Ryan’s hair is nice, usually. It’s dark and smooth and full and he takes care of it. Today, though, it’s missing the usual gel and instead it’s curling up loosely like he just woke up. Like he let it dry on its own, and it strikes Shane suddenly that this is the natural state of Ryan’s hair, that it could always look like this. He imagines running his fingers through it; and then the levees break. Suddenly he’s flooded with all sorts of ideas and scenarios; waking up with Ryan curled next to him and kissing the top of his head; messing with it and tugging on his curls while Ryan rides him slowly. He can feel himself losing composure, can feel the blush on his cheeks burning brighter.

“Ok seriously dude, what’s up with you?” Ryan asks. Shane doesn’t look over. Can’t. He’ll absolutely lose control and do something foolish if he does. “Nothing, nothing. I just… didn’t… sleep well,” Shane says. It isn’t very convincing.

*

He makes it through a week of torture before he realizes that Ryan must be doing it on purpose; that he must know what it’s doing to Shane. The idea occurs to him late one night, while he’s out with a couple friends. He makes an excuse and leaves immediately, heads straight for Ryan’s place.

“Uh, hey Shane,” Ryan says when he opens the door. “You want to come in?”

He does. So he does. Ryan’s hair is damp, and there’s a bit of a dark stain around the collar of his shirt like he’d just gotten out of the shower. His hair is already curling up as it dries, and it looks so soft and fluffy that Shane almost reaches out automatically. “Listen. This is… obviously something has been up lately and this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done but can I…” he stops talking. Ryan doesn’t say anything, but he’s clearly confused. “It’s just. Your hair,” he says, finally. Ryan grins.

“Oh, you like it?” he asks. It sounds like he’s teasing. The smile on his face and the water running down from the nape of his neck toward his shoulders and the way the shirt is clinging to his toned body. The levees broke a while ago, Shane is a flood of bad ideas, he has no control over this situation and the feeling is so thrilling and unfamiliar and his hands are shaking in his pockets; his hands are only in his pockets to keep him from touching.

“Of course I like it. It looks amazing. It’s so…”

Ryan cuts him off with a laugh. “Oh, fuck it,” he says and then he grabs Shane’s shoulders and pulls him in to a searing kiss. “Mrmph,” Shane says. His hands slide around Ryan’s waist to his back but almost immediately run their way up, up, up to tangle in the soft curls. He grips, tugs lightly and swallows down the moan he gets in response. He feels far more confident now, and he pushes Ryan backwards until his back hits the wall, pressing in insistent and tugging again.

Ryan pulls away to smile again, and then pulls Shane down the hall and into his bedroom.

*

“Why you insisted on using gel for so long I’ll never understand,” Shane says. Ryan looks at him over the rim of his coffee mug. He shrugs, takes a sip. The morning light is soft, and it catches on the dark silky strands of his hair. “I’m not really good at stuff like this,” he continues, “you know. Feelings and romance and… relationships.” Ryan just raises one shoulder up, like half a shrug, like half a question.

“Whatever, dude. We’ll just add that to the list of stuff you’re not good at,” he teases. The hickey on his neck and the way he’s sitting off to the side rather than flat on the chair lets Shane know that there’s at least a few things he _is_ good at.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Cause out of all the flaws I've stumbled on,  
> It's the hardest one to focus on.  
> Bombay Bicycle Club - Flaws


End file.
